


Release

by HillaryLeonor



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 20th c., Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 12:12:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10334378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HillaryLeonor/pseuds/HillaryLeonor
Summary: February 12, 1999. Bill was denied, but sought for release. He did not realize how broken his marriage was until then.A companion piece toReprieve





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for your feedback on Reprieve! Glad you enjoyed my first foray in smut. 
> 
> I can't just leave Bill hanging, can I? :))
> 
> Note: I you haven't read Reprieve, then do not proceed. Same disclaimers apply.
> 
> Update: For some unknown reason, my original post was missing a few paragraphs. Anyway, it's complete now!

Bill went up to their private residence physically and emotionally exhausted. His night was not supposed to be like this. After beating back the charges against him (finally), he thought he would end the day in a festive mood, like having a celebratory dinner with his wife. Probably if he was lucky, she would gift him with a passionate osculation. He wasn’t going to force her, but he would be lying if he told himself that he did not miss his wife’s sensual touch.

Actually, he was close to getting what he wanted that night. Alone in the Oval, things got pretty heated between them. In the midst of their celebration, they were slowly falling in each other’s passion, the embers of their pent-up desires finally starting to burn into a full-fledged fire. He felt the familiar stir in his pants as he devoured her mouth, pouring all the words he never said in their therapy sessions onto her lips. She was reciprocating his advances on her, indulging herself in his lavish attention. Her small hands traveling to his luscious rear gave Bill permission to proceed.

However, as soon as he unzipped her pantsuit, something stirred inside Hillary, causing her to break  
away from their kiss and run off away from the Oval. She didn’t say a single word, but Bill instantly knew  
what exactly what was going on in her mind and in her heart.

Hillary’s sudden departure left him a state of deep unsatisfaction, but that physical discomfort was nothing compared to the pain that was constricting his heart. He was kicking himself for letting his lust take over his rational mind. He should have known better to remember that no matter how things got brighter for them, he had lost his claim on her the moment he let that young intern’s lips touch the part of his body that should only be reserved for his wife’s.

As soon as he opened the door to their residence, he could have sworn that he heard a soft moan from the master’s bedroom. Thinking that it was just a cruel shadow of their last encounter, he shrugged it off as he walked towards the couch which doubled as his bed. He decided that he would crash in for a short nap before changing into his pajamas. But as soon as he lay on the soft comfort of the couch, he heard Hillary’s voice once again, this time more audible than the first.

“Yes, Bill please”, he heard her moan in pleasure.

He froze. He did not know what to do. He knew exactly what sound was and what exactly she was doing, but he had no idea what to make of it. Despite this initial confusion, he felt yet again that painful strain in his pants. His heart broke at the realization at his wife would rather do it alone than with him, a testament of the magnitude of hurt that he had inflicted on her. In an attempt to fight back the arousal that was threatening to take over him again, he thought of a naked Strom Thurmond, running around the White House. But his attempt was made impossible by the breathless moans that came from inside the bedroom. He was too aroused at the thought of seeing his wife pleasuring herself, a fantasy of his that she has yet to fulfill.

He thought of Socks and Buddy, Al Gore, his knee accident…anything to get his mind off the fact that his wife was touching herself and he wanted nothing more in the world than watch that sensual ritual and join her afterwards. Her lustful sounds only sent more exhilarating sensations to his groin. He thought to leave the residence and then calm himself elsewhere but he was putting himself at risk of being spotted by White House staff. He could play music but it might signal his presence to her, and he could not have her feeling embarrassed at the moment.

There was no other logical option left for him. As it turned out, he would have to fall back to his first option: let his lust take over.

He approached the masters’ bedroom and stuck his ear in the door. He could still hear it, her breathy moans and cries of desperation that had gotten louder in the past few minutes, apparently coming from the bathroom. Bill realized that she was probably in the tub, touching herself in the middle of her bath. The thought only turned him on more. The bulge in his pants was now too unbearable in its confines so he took off his belt and pulled down his pants and briefs, just enough to expose his member. Now unrestrained to the confines of soft fabric, his member proudly stood in attention towards the direction of Hillary’s voice.

Bill gripped himself and started stroking, up and down. He wished his hands were like Hillary’s: small, soft and firm. He tightened his grip around his manhood, trying to emulate Hillary’s usual ministrations. He imagined her kneeling in front of the bed as her hands paid attention to him while his hands were playing with her soft, round breasts. His mouth watered at the desire to taste her sweet nectar, to lap his tongue in her core and lick her entrance until he felt her body shiver in pure ecstasy.

He heard her moans crescendo into full-throated cries. Oh God. His hips began to move on their own accord, aching to seek pleasure with the woman on the other side of the door. As he felt more blood rush into his member, he became more desperate for his release.

He removed his hand from his grip and wet his fingers with his saliva. He placed his hand back into his member and stroked himself again; this time imagining that her mouth was making love to him, her tongue swirling around his head. He let out a soft grunt in pleasure, careful not to let Hillary hear his voice. 

“Oh God…Fuck me Bill. Fuck me hard”.

Oh God. He wanted nothing more than to break the door open, go straight to the bathroom and pound her senseless. Unbeknownst to him, Hillary was agonizing in the middle of her carnal pleasure. And unbeknownst to her, he was too. A painful throb blossomed in his chest, reflecting his anguish for wanting her so bad but not having her, and her consistent craving for him despite the hurt that he had inflicted upon her. He focused his frustration and desperation to into seeking his release. He furiously stroked himself, matching Hillary’s rhythm and fantasizing her wet inferno now deliciously enveloping his raging manhood.

“Come for me, baby”, Bill breathed quietly. He wasn’t with Hillary, but he wanted her to have her release. He could tell that she was close, judging by the intensity of her cries. He was awfully close too. His grip now resembled the intense tightening of her walls that usually come before her climax. His strokes and the bucking of his hips were more forceful than ever. When he heard a long, labored scream from Hillary, “Yes, yes, yes, yes”, he knew she had reached her peak, and that was when he decided to let go.

“Baby, I can’t…argh”. He arched his body in ecstasy as he came like a fountain, staining the door and the carpet with his seed. As he let his orgasm ebb, he caught up with his breath and consumed himself on the realization that they simultaneously got off without touching each other, marking a new low into their already troubled relationship.

That night, it was not only Bill’s seed that was spilled after his orgasmic release.

His tears did too. 


End file.
